Dying in Your Arms Tonight
by McB
Summary: He loves her, she hates him. What happens when he gets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time with everything to lose? CM please R
1. one

_Yay, new story! Nobody was reading the other one so I though I should change it up a bit. Hope you guys like this one better! I'll explain what's going on with everybody in the next chapter, enjoy!_

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - One

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I lied in the middle of the floor, the music turned down low but still rumbling through my head, wondering if I'd ever see my friends again. Sure, Joey was a few feet away, but I was too weak, and maybe too scared, to lift my head and silently plead with him to come and save me.

I could hear them, the three men with the thick mexican accents, as they sat at the bar and discussed what they were going to do, how they were going to get away, and what they were going to do after this was over.

I wondered what I'd do after this was over, if I was still alive, that is. Would life go on the same as it had before? Would everybody forget about this, or dismiss this as just another tragic happening? Our nation had become too used to things like this happening.

I wanted to stand up, to just walk away, or maybe jump up on the bartop and start screaming out in emotional pain. Screaming didn't fit the mood, or the moment, too out of place in a world where nobody fit.

I wanted to tell her I was sorry for what I'd done. I wanted to make up with her and kiss her and never let go. I wanted to run out the doors and scream into the night. I shouldn't be given a second chance, but _damn_ did I want one.

My chest ached, as did my leg and back, and I wondered why I wasn't dead yet. Why wasn't anybody coming to my aid? Did they think I was dead?

My clothes were wet and sticky and they were making my skin itch.

Maybe, just maybe, if we hadn't been so stupid, this wouldn't have happened. No, it was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We shouldn't have come in the first place. I wondered if he was blaming himself, how he felt. I wondered if he, too, would make it out of here alive.

There was one thing, amongst a few more, that I knew though, and that was that I was terrified of dying.

And as I lay on the floor, fighting off death with everything I had left, I tried to remember how I had gotten myself in this mess in the first place.

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to be continued...

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_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	2. two

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Two

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_Three days earlier..._

It had happened so fast my mind couldn't register it soon enough. That girl, that damn co-worker, Kirsten, I just _had_ to fire _her_, of all people. We were in my office, I told her the bad news, and she came after me. She took several swings at my head, which I luckily ducked, and then got me pined against the desk. Her hands were clawing into my chest like some god-awful bird that saw my eyes as breakfast.

Monica walked in for a surprise lunch, picnic basket and all. She saw something else in the scene. She didn't see Kirsten trying to kill me, she saw Kirsten trying to kiss me.

She dropped the picnic basket by the door and ran from the building with tears streaming down her face. I pushed Kirsten away from me as hard as I could and took off after her. By the time I got to the sidewalk, she was speeding away in a taxi. I didn't even think to try and grab one for myself, instead, I took off running after hers.

It was a good 30 minutes by foot back to the apartment, but my brain refused to comprehend that. People gave me strange looks and yelled profanities as I pushed them out of my way, never losing speed once.

I ran the whole way with a heart attack chasing me close on my heels. I was at the apartment door, a mixture of tears and sweat pooring down my face like a waterfall. I had thrown my tie off somewhere along the way, I didn't care.

I tore my jacket off and dropped it in the hallway as I hastily tried to unbotton my shirt and pull it out of my pants at the same time. I was dying of exhaustion, my head was overheating and my heart was ready to beat itself right out of my chest.

I tried the door, it was locked. Damn. "Monica, open up, _please_!" No response.

"Come on, babe, it's not what you think! I swear on my life! I love you! I would _never_ do that to you! I thought you knew that."

My body slumped against the door, I was too weak to hold myself up. My legs were burning and my head wasn't getting enough oxygen.

I could feel her eyes on me and I knew she was watching me through the peep hole. "Please..open the door." I tried weakly. God, I couldn't even talk, I was too tired.

I had never ran like that in my life, I was never a runner. Just the idea of jogging made me want to crawl back to my nice warm bed. But, I guess it's true what they say, love makes you do crazy things.

"Come on, don't do this to me, Mon." The door whooshed open and I stumbled in a few steps before catching my balance. I was quickly pushed back out though, fighting against a giant pile of my clothes. I pushed them down, away from my face, and watched as Monica stormed back to our room to gather another armful.

"Monica, what are you doing?" I asked hesitantly. I knew what she was doing, I didn't need to ask. She was kicking me out.

"Get out!" She yelled, and shoved me out of the apartment even further with another load of clothes, this time topped with my favorite pair of sneakers.

"Monica, please! Don't do this! You're all I have left! You're my _life!_" I begged, tears streaming down my face faster.

"Get out of my apartment, I never want to see you again!" She threw the last load of clothes at me, gave me a good shove, and slammed the door in my face.

I dropped the few clothes that were hanging down from my arms and fell back against Joey and Rachel's door. I clumsily slid to the floor with a thud and drew my knees up as close as I could get them to my chest. With my head in my hands and my heart lying at the bottom of my chest in pieces, I wept.

Life, as I knew it, was over.

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to be continued...

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_Sorry this chapter was so short, the next one will be longer, I promise! Thanks for all the reviews! I really enjoy reading them!_

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	3. three

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Three

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About half an hour later, I finally felt that I had enough strenth to pull myself off the floor. I wearily stood on my rubbery legs and stared down at the mess of clothes scattered around the hallway. I was too exhausted to pick them all up, so, having no where else to go, I opened Joey and Rachel's front door and started shuffling them in with my feet.

Joey and Rachel obviously weren't home so I decided to collapse on their couch until one of them got there. I didn't know if I should just take off and hide at a hotel or stay and see if they'd let me rent their couch for a few days. Monica was obviously not gonna let me stay at _her_ place. I wondered if I'd ever be talking to her again. She had to let me explain what had _really_ happened, she'd cool off after a few days, I'd tell her my story, and everything would be the way it was supposed to be.

My exhaustion took over me and I fell into a deep sleep on the big yellow couch.

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It must have been just over three hours later when Rachel found me on their couch. My black button down shirt was untucked and wrinkled with half of the buttons undone. My sleeves were rolled up and my black slacks looked like they had been..well..slept in.

"Chandler," she called and nudged my shoulder.

I sat up quickly and glanced around. It took me a few minutes to realize where I was and for it all to come back to me. I brought my arm up and glanced down at my watch. 6:21.

"Hey," I said, looking up at Rachel, who still stood above me.

"Chandler, Monica told me what happened."

"Oh, God," I sighed, sliding my head into my hands and resting my elbows on my knees.

Rachel paused and sat on the edge of the recliner, staring at the ground in front of her dazedly. "Honestly, it doesn't sound like something you would do, especially not to Monica. So I'll let you explain your side of the story before I do any ass kicking."

I sat back and stared at her with my tear stained face. "I..had to fire this girl, and she went kinda..crazy. She started swinging at me and then she got me pinned against the desk, and that's when Monica came in. She saw what was going on, thought it was something else, and just went blasting out of there. I chased her taxi the whole way home, and when I got here, she wouldn't talk to me. She just threw all my clothes at me and told me to get out. I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I came over here, I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, Chandler, hun, I'm sorry," She came forward and wrapped her arms around me. "I won't kick you out, I promise."

"Do--do you think she'll let me explain?'' I said, starting to cry again.

"Oh, I'm sure she will. Just give her some space. I'll try to talk to her tonight."

"Thanks. Hey, do you think I could sleep on your couch? It'd just be for tonight, I'll try to find a hotel tomorrow."

"Chandler, you can stay here for as long as you need. We're friends, I'm here for support. You've helped me through more than I can remember, I'm gonna get you through this," she said, sliding her hands up to my cheeks and smiling at me.

"Thanks, again. Want to play 52 pick up clothing-style with me?"

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A few days went by and Monica still wouldn't talk to me. I had heard from the others that she was thinking of staying at her parents for a few days, just to get away from it all. Each of them had tried to explain what had _really_ happened, but she wouldn't believe them, I was doubtful that she'd believe me too.

Ross was ticked at first, but then the others helped me out in explaining it all to him, mostly because I couldn't talk with the death grip he had had on my throat.

It was day three and counting. I stayed home the day after this whole fiasco and returned to work yesterday. I didn't get much done though, only if you count staring at Monica's picture on my desk, work.

I couldn't get her out of my mind, I didn't _want_ to. She was my life, I couldn't live without her. I didn't know what I'd do if she never talked to me again after this.

I'd probably move away to some place on the west coast, as far from here as I could get. I loved New York, but being in the same city as the woman I loved and knowing there was nothing I could do about it would be too much to handle.

I trudged in from work about two hours ago and immediately went to the faithful recliner for comfort. I was on my third beer, with two empty bottles sitting on the floor beside me.

Joey strolled in and looked at me sadly. Here I was, sitting in the middle of his apartment, still dressed in my work suit, minus the tie, drinking beer, watching the strangest tv shows known to man, and pining over my girlfriend, quite possibly ex-girlfriend.

"Dude, you have _got_ to get out of this apartment," he said, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the counter.

"Why? Do you want me to leave? Cause if you don't wa--"

"No, Man, you need to get out, in the real world, with people. You haven't been to Central Perk in three days, you sit here all day, depressed out of your mind. You don't even _try_ to talk to Monica," he paused and stared at me for a few seconds. "We're going out tonight, go get changed, get cleaned up, stop _drinking_, let's get going. This girl I went out with last night told me about this kick ass club that I really wanna check out, we're going!"

"Joe, I don't really feel like going--"

"No, come on, we are going out!" He said, walking over to me, grabbing my shirt collar and lifting me out of my chair.

"Hey! Alright, alright, I'll go."

He turned me toward my room (Rachel moved back over to Monica's until this all got settled down) and gave me a little shove.

I had no idea that I was about to get into the worst trouble of my life.

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to be continued...

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_Ok, so this isn't as long as I really wanted and I'm sorry I made you guys wait so long! I've been dealing with a lot of stuff and, honestly, I think I'm losing my intrest in Friends fiction writing. I'll finish this story for sure (I'm almost done writing it) and maybe do one more, but after that, I think I'm gonna be done. Retiring after just 1 and a half years, wow. I'm starting to turn more towards One Tree Hill. I can relate to that show so much more, and it's younger, and I'm young, and it's just easy to write. I don't know, we'll see how things go. _

_Thanks for reading, please review! (btw, thanks for all the reviews!)_


	4. four

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Four

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"Joey, this place is packed, look at that line! We're never gonna get in. Can we just go home?" I whined, staring at the mile long line that stretched from the front doors of the club, that was well over-decorated with neon lights.

"No, Dude, it's ok, look, I got passes. I was originally planning on taking the girl that gave them to me, but you needed to get out more than she did. Come on," he said, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the front of the line.

He flashed the passes at the gigantic bouncer and he moved aside. Our hands were stamped and we were givin wrist bands so we could get back in if we left.

The music was blaring so loudI could hardly hear Joey yelling at me to follow him to the bar. The place was obviously over it's capacity and I couldn't take one step without running into somebody.

Joey pushed and shoved his way to the bar, but still kept a firm grasp on my wrist. I knew the second we lost physical contact, we'd be separated for the night.

We finally found our way to the bar and bellied up to it, keeping a firm grasp on the edge so we weren't sidswiped by somebody on their way past us.

He ordered two beers and I glanced up and down the huge semi circle bar, lined with neon lights, every spot was taken.

"Chandler! Check out that chick!" Joey yelled, pointing toward a blonde sitting at the end of the bar, talking to three other girls.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked at Joey like I didn't know what he wanted from me.

"Dude, you have to start realizing that you and Monica are over. She obviously isn't going to talk to you, maybe she will someday, but not now. In the meantime, you need to have fun," he said, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the music.

"Joe, I want to at least--" I was abruptly cut off by somebody slaming into my back and slamming my gut right into the bar. "What the hell!" I whiped around as soon as he was off of me and realized that he was fighting with another man, who was almost twice his size.

The mexican that had run into me called across the room to his buddies on the dance floor, two more mexicans, and they came running.

They immediately shoved the man away, but he came barreling right back and I just narrowly dodged all three of them flying toward the bar.

"Hey! Hey, back off, Man!" One of them yelled, whiping a gun out of his jacket and shoving it in the man's chest. "Back the fuck up!" he yelled, his words dripping with his thick accent.

Screams erupted from the crowd at the sight of the gun and what could easily be described as a human stampede took off for the door, along with the supposed target of the waiting gun.

Joey and I tried to make a break for it, but everytime we did, we would get shoved back out of the crowd and back behind the man with the gun.

Amazingly, all but about 30 people were able to escape before the other two men ran over and shut the doors, locking the bouncers outside.

They walked back over to where their friend was standing and also pulled guns out from inside their jackets. _Why hadn't they been checked for weapons on the way in?_

"Everybody move over there! And sit down!" They yelled, waving their guns in front of us.

It was safe to say that I was as scared as I had ever been. I shakily sat down on the ground and drew my knees up to my chest. Joey was right beside me, but just looked like he didn't understand what was going on. He almost looked mad.

I just wanted to go home and crawl into Monica's arms and stay there forever. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. I wanted to forget this stupid 'separation' that was over one misunderstanding. I wanted fresh air. I wanted to lay in bed with Monica all day doing nothing but staring at each other. I wanted to lay there and spend the rest of my life figuring out the color of her eyes.

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It had been two hours and the three men had yet to do something. The cops had no doubt shown up, judging from the blaring blue and red lights I could see flashing through the windows. Every once in a while they'd yell things through mega phones, but other than that, it didn't seem like they were doing much to get us out of here.

Joey hadn't said anything since we sat down, nobody really had, we were afriad of what they'd do to us. They obviously didn't seem very in control and they didn't look like they knew what they were doing.

"You,'' one of the men said, coming over to us and pointing at Joey. "Come here!" He yelled, reaching down to grab Joey's shirt collar and pull him up. Joey was a good five inches taller than the guy, and quite a bit heavier. If he wanted, Joey could easily take him in a fight, but he was too scared.

He let go of Joey's collar and grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, dragging him toward the front door and away from me.

He looked back at me pleadingly, he was scared. I had never seen that look on his face before, and it was terrifying.

The man put a gun to Joey's head and my heart skipped a beat. He shoved him out the front door and I heard him yelling something about money, my ears weren't paying attention, they were more foccused on listening for the sound of a gunshot.

Joey was brought back and thrown down on the floor next to me. "Are you okay?" I asked, scooting a bit towards him and helping him sit up.

"Yea," he swallowed. "Just, you know, scared shitless."

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An hour later the man came back and reached for Joey again. Something inside me snapped and I shot off the ground and shoved the man away. I didn't have anything to say, and the second I had shoved the man, my emotions relaxed back to scared out of my mind. Maybe that snap had just been a leg cramp?

I realized what I had done and immediately regreted it when the other two guys came running from across the room. I turned and jumped over the guy I had pushed down and stopped on the middle of the dance floor when I realized I had no where else to go.

The biggest of the three guys advanced toward me and hit me in the stomach with the most powerful punch I had ever recieved. I doubled over in pain but straightend up quickly after realizing that another one was on it's way.

I was able to run around on the dance floor for a few minutes--he wasn't very fast--before he caught me by the arm and swung me around.

Amidst my spinning, I saw one of the other men raise his gun at me and I cried out in pain when the bullet collided with my left shoulder. I dropped down on my knees but was quickly pulled back up.

The only thing my brain was registering was the complete and utter pain shooting all across my chest, I didn't know that the guy was dragging me to a storage room.

I opened my eyes for a second and glanced at Joey, as pale as a ghost, slumped against the wall. He must have thought they were dragging me off to kill me...I was starting to think that too.

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to be continued...

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_God, I'm so sorry! I promised this chapter would be longer, and it isn't that much. Basically, I'm done writing the story, just a little bit more, all I have to do is type it up. I had so planned on getting this chapter up last Thursday, but I got way busy, I don't know what happened. I promise I will get another chapter up before Friday. Thank you so much for all of the reviews! They really make me feel better when I'm having a bad day, it lets me know that at least somebody likes what I'm doing in this world._

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	5. five

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Five

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I stumbled over my feet and went crashing back against a storage rack, arms flying. I hit the floor in a sitting position and my head slammed into a shelft. I hollared out in pain when I felt something rip up through my leg from the bottom up. I looked down and saw a thin piece of copper cord pipe sticking out of my left thigh a couple inches. I started painfully lifting my leg off it when the guy pressed down on my knee with his foot.

"Ah! Joey! Help!" I heard voices shouting outside coming from the main area, but I wasn't sure if they were coming from Joey or not.

I didn't have anymore time to react, the giant reached down and bent the top of the pipe over, preventing me from pulling it out of my leg. He reached above me and grabbed some rope. He tied it around my chest and made me scream out in pain when he tightened it directly over my bullet wound. He reached down and began uncoiling the pipe so I could stand up.

He made a loop on the other end of the rope and lifted me off the ground a foot so he could hang me from a hook. He pulled a small dusty lamp out of an open box and set it on a stack of empty crates before plugging it in. It didn't give off much light, but it was better than sitting..or hanging rather, in the dark.

He brushed his hands off on his pants and then came at me again. I remember being met in the stomach by his fist once before my world faded to black.

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"You guys, it's one in the morning, Joey said they'd be home by midnight," Rachel said, checking her watch as she refilled the bowl of popcorn. They had all decided to have a movie night at Monica's when they heard that Joey and Chandler were going out for the night.

"Relax, they probably hooked up," Phoebe said, giving a light laugh, but stopped when she saw the look that Monica was shooting her. "I didn't mean hooked up with _girls_, I meant..oh forget it, there's nothing else any respectable human being would _hook up_ with."

"But come on, they never stay out this late. What's Chandler's cell number?" Rachel asked, getting up and grabbing the phone out of it's cradle.

"Rach, come on, they're fine," Ross said.

"What if they got hammered and need somebody to come get them? You know what those two are like when they drink."

Ross pulled a piece of paper with Chandler's number on it out of his wallet and handed it to Rachel, knowing that she wouldn't give up until she knew they were ok.

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Ringing. Where was it coming from? It painfully brought me out of my oblivion and back into the poorly lit storage room. The small lamp cast gloomy shadows all around the room and made reality seem like a dream. I wished I was dreaming.

More ringing. _Where?_ My phone! It handin'g been damaged in the fight. I could barely reach down into my pocket without aggrivating the pipe that was still protruding from my thigh. I pulled it out with two fingers and looked at the ID. HOME. I hadn't changed it back to MONICA'S yet, it hadn't even occured to me until now, she hadn't called me at all.

I hit the TALK button and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked weakly, grunting in pain.

"Chandler? Are you ok? You sound different."

"Oh my God, Rach, it's so good to hear your voice."

"Chandler, what's wrong?" She asked and I could hear the others in the background asking her questions.

"God, Rach, these guys..they got in a fight with this one guy..and they have guns..they shot me, they shot me, Rach!" I squeaked out and cried in pain as I dangled back and forth on the rope.

"Chandler, where are you?" She asked sternly.

"At that one club, I can't remember the name, but you can't come here, Rach, it's not safe! There's cops here, they aren't doing anything though. Joey's still out there. I don't want to die, I don't want to die, Rach!" I cried, painfully aware of the fact that I sounded like a child and was most likely delirious by now. So much stress, so much fear, so much pain, I was ready to snap.

"Chandler, you're breaking up, I can barely hear you."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the battery icon. There were no bars. It didn't help that I was surrounded by bricks, stressing the signal far too much for it to hold out.

"Rachel!" I called frantically. No reply. "Rachel!" Nothing.

I threw the phone to the floor in anger and swore at the tiny shards of plastic and metal.

The pain from all my rushed movements of the past few minutes caught up with me and a wave of pain washed over me. My body temp rose even more as the paniced idea that I could die hit me.

I ran my hand over the bullet wound in my left shoulder, wincing when my finger diped in the whole a little bit. The pain was starting to spread across and settle into the left side of my chest.

My hand hit the rope and I looked down at it, searching for a way to get it off me. No such luck. The knot was in the back and there was no way I would be able to reach it.

My mind wandered to Joey. Was he still alive? Was he ok? Surely I would have heard any gun shots fired.

Monica. I missed her so much. I wondered what she was thinking now. Rachel had no doubt told her what I had said. Were they on their way here? I hoped they weren't. I didn't want them anywhere near here. They were safe at home, together.

I wished I wasn't alone, that I had somebody to talk to. I was so lonely in here. I was afraid of falling asleep. Afraid that if I did, I might not wake up again.

Exhaustion swept over me and I had nothing left to fight it off.

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"Chandler? Are you there?" Racheld asked into the phone, pulling it away from her ear and giving it a strange look.

"What? What happened? What did he say?" Phoebe asked.

"That was so weird. He said that there are guys there with guns. They took over the club and they shot him."

"You don't think that really happened, do you?" Monica asked, her frist words since the argument of calling him arose.

"No. He's probably drunk. You know what he gets like when he's drunk," Ross said, quickly turning his attention back to the movie.

"Ross, I know you're mad at him for what you _think_ he did, but he's still your friend. I'm going down there, "Phoebe said, pushing herself off the floor and heading for the door.

"Hey, wait up!" Rachel said, getting up and following her.

Ross and Monica gave each other a look before reluctantly following behind.

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to be continued...

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_God! I really suck at getting reviews up! Even when I promise too! I'm so sorry about that guys. But school is out next thursday and I've been really busy with finals and stuff. Then I went out with my friends last night when I was planning on typing the rest of this chapter up and getting it up on the site, so sorry! I'm not gonna make any more promises right now because I know I'll probably break them. Thank you so much for all of the reviews though! Also, I didn't have time to check this chapter for mistakes, so oops if there are any.  
_

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	6. six

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Six

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Joey glanced around the room nervously, looking at the three men ten times more than anything else in the room.

The burly man, that was now smoking a cigar behind the bar, had hauled Chandler off more than half an hour ago.

He had heard Chandler yell for him but had been forced back by the other two men. What had happened to him? Was he still alive? How far from death was he?

He had watched his best friend get shot and there was nothing he could do to protect him.

It was nearing three in the morning and exhaustion was bearing down on him hard. Every once in a while, one of the men would yell something at them and wave his gun around, giving Joey little, but not much, of an adrenaline rush, just enough to keep his body awake and alert.

The police seemed to have the mens' attention and were distracting them. Joey took this opportunity to quietly sneak away from the group and slip into the back hallways to search for his lost friend.

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"Chandler?'' Joey half-whispered, half-screamed as he proceded down the hallway, knees bent and slightly crouched as if he were deep in enemy territory. "Chandler, where are you?"

"The hallway seemed to have no purpose other than to house cardboard boxes and other various racks and carts.

A door, towards the end of the hallway. A dim light was coming out from underneath it.

Joey sped forward and opened the door slowly. He crept inside, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was following as he did so, and shut the door behind him.

A small lamp sat on a stack of cardboard boxes, providing very little light, but enough to see with.

A figure dangling from the wall in the shadows caught his eye and he cautiously apporached it. Upon seeing that it was Chandler, he stood up straight and stared at him in awe.

His face and clothes were dirty, most likely from the condition of the room, and blood was trailing down from the side of his face from a large gash above his left eyebrow. A small stream of blood trickled down the right side of his chin from the corner of his mouth.

Joey's eyes moved lower, down to his chest. A large crimson dot covered the bullet wound and his shirt was soaked with blood.

"Chandler?" he asked, creeping forward and placing his hands on Chandler's stomach and right chest to shake him a little.

Chandler grunted in response and lifted his head a little, his eyes still shut.

"Let's get you down from here," Joey said, wrapping his arm around Chandler's legs and reaching up for the rope with the other.

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There was somebody there, in front of me, talking to me. It sounded like Joey, I could tell by the worried, but always curious, tone of voice. He shook me a little and I grunted in pain, any slight movement was killing me just a little more. I didn't open my eyes, I didn't have any strength left.

I felt his arm wrap around me and his other arm reach up for the rope above me. He shifted me up a little, which was enough for the pipe to let it's presence be known. My eyes shot open and a pain I had never known before spread to every nerve in my body.

I screamed in pain and shoved Joey away from me the best I could.

"Hey! Pipe!" I screamed and pointed down to my leg. "There's a pipe in my leg!"

Joey stared at the pipe questionably for a few seconds before moving forward again and grabbing hold of the bent end.

"Ah! What are you doing!" I screamed and punched him on the shoulder as hard as I could.

"Sh!" He yelled back at me and we both quieted down. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Footsteps. Joey, you gotta get out of here!" I whisper-yelled at him. I didn't want to know what they'd do to him if they found him in here.

He didn't say anything but turned back to me, grabing the pipe again.

He bent the top back so it was straight and grabbed the end of the pipe that was sticking out of the back of my thigh.

"Joey, wait!" I pleaded but he clamped a hand over my mouth and yanked on the pipe. I yelled out and struggled against him. I knew he was trying to help me, but it hurt like hell.

The footsteps were getting louder, closer.

The pipe was out and Joey's hand was off my mouth. I dangled there with sweat pouring down my face. My body had had enough and I was starting to lose conciousness again.

Joey was looking around the room. "Here," he grabbed a wooden crate and stuck it under my feet and made me use my good leg to stand on it, taking the tension off the rope so he could get if off the hook. It was hell to stand, even with Joey half holding me up.

The rope was off the hook just as the door knob turned and Joey kicked the box away so he could lay me down. I was half-sitting half-laying. I looked up at Joey. He was protectively standing in front of me, ready to fight.

The door opened the whole way and I saw half a man creap around it before my strength ran out and I was submerged into darkness again.

ooooo

I was being aroused once again, this time by the large guy that had brought me back here in the first place. He was kicking me in the leg, trying to wake me up. I hoped he wasn't married, and if he was, I felt bad for what his wife must have to go through every morning.

Joey was gone again. I hated this place, everybody was always coming and going, nobody ever just stayed with me.

My strength was draining away quickly this time, I had only been unconcious for mere minutes. I imagined that it was from the great amount of blood I had lost, and was still losing.

The hole in my leg was making a great escape for blood and I wondered if I would be better off if Joey had just left the pipe alone.

The man standing above me looked angry. Another one of the guys came in and started talking to him in a hushed voice. The thinner guy motioned towards me and said something, I couldn't hear him though and I didn't know why. It made me uncomfortable not being able to understand them.

The big guy came toward me, crouched down, looked me straight in the eye like he was trying to see if I was dead or not, then whacked me right between the eyes with his giant fist.

ooooo

to be continued...

ooooo

_Ok, wow, sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up (do I say that everytime?). The last day of school was last thursday and I've been busy as hell since then, and my summer's only going to get more busy! My birthday's on Friday though, so WOO! Thank you so much for all the reviews and thank you for sticking with me and putting up with my bull crap on how soon I'm going to get these chapters up! I hope crosses fingers to get another chapter up within a week. It's just a matter of me finding time to type it up. Pretty much the whole story but the last chapter (which isn't written yet) is all in one of my school notebooks, I just have to get it all typed up on the computer._

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	7. seven

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Seven

ooooo

This is how my night went, I'd black out from pain or exhaustion then wake up a short busrt of energy that I had reserved during my "sleep".

I was awake, again. I was being dragged down the hallway, back toward the main area of the club, by the rope that was still tied around me. It took a minute or two, but the pain hit me with all it's mighty. The rope was squeezed tight around the bullet wound. I kicked and screamed and hollared and fought against the rope, but that only made it worse.

The pain was so unbearable, I did everything I could to not make it worse. I stopped my screaming and took a moment to look around. I was just sliding past the bar now and was slowing down. I looked at the floor behind me, a long streak of crimson blood was smeared against the dark tiled floor like a red carpet.

I felt a strong tug on the rope and I was flying across the room about a foot and a half off the ground. I hit the edge of the wooden dance floor and rolled a few times, getting me just about to the center of it.

I arched my back in pain and lifted my head a little off the ground. I saw Joey sitting against the same wall as everybody else. He looked scared, and dazed, and had a mean bruise forming on his right cheek.

I relaxed back down on the floor, staring up at the twinkling dance lights above me, and collapsed back into darkness, where there was no pain and I wasn't just inches from death.

ooooo

"Oh my God," Rachel gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth in shock. "Chandler wasn't lying."

The four friends hopped out of the taxi and rushed toward the building.

"Hey! Get away from there! Stop!" A young male cop yelled, running towards the four and jumping in front of them. "Are you crazy? Get back there!" he pointed to the sidewalk behind a mess of police cars, cops, and blaring bright lights.

"Our friends are in there! You have to get them out!" Phoebe yelled, squaring up to the cop.

"Ma'am, we're doing everything we can to get the hostages out, now will you please get on the sidewalk?" he replied, ushering them around a few cars.

"Well you have to do more!" Ross yelled.

An older detective came over to the four friends and frazzled cop. "Is there a problem here, folkds?" he asked calmly.

"Yes, our friends are in danger and you're not doing a damn thing!" Phoebe yelled, stepping away from the cop and moving toward the detective.

"Why don't you ocme with me?" He waved his hand for them to follow and walked behind a white police suburban. "Now, what's going on?"

"Our friends, Joey Tribbiani and Chandler Bing, are behing held hostage in there," Rachel spoke up.

"How do you know they're in there?"

"Because I talked to Chandler on his cell phone. He said they shot him."

"You've had contact with him?"

"Well, yea, obviously."

"And you're sure what your friend told you is true?"

"I'm positive."

A message came over the detective's radio, calling him back to a group of officers and detectives. "Ok, well I have to go talk with my capitan, but I'll need to speak with you more later. I'm detective Murray. If you need anything, just ask for me.."

Detective Murray took off before giving them a chance to say anything more.

"So...what do we do now?" Rachel asked, leaning against the wall of the building behind them.

"Wait," Monica said quietly, staring at the club like it was a long lost enemy.

ooooo

I lied in the middle of the floor, the music turned down low but still rumbling through my head, wondering if I'd ever see my friends again. Sure, Joey was a few feet away, but I was too weak, and maybe too scared, to lift my head and silently plead with him to come and save me.

I could hear them, the three men with the thick mexican accents, as they sat at the bar and discussed what they were going to do, how they were going to get away, and what they were going to do after this was over.

I wondered what I'd do after this was over, if I was still alive, that is. Would life go on the same as it had before? Would everybody forget about this, or dismiss this as just another tragic happening? Our nation had become too used to things like this happening.

I wanted to stand up, to just walk away, or maybe jump up on the bartop and start screaming out in emotional pain. Screaming didn't fit the mood, or the moment, too out of place in a world where nobody felt comfortable in their own skin.

I wanted to tell her I was sorry for what I'd done. I wanted to make up with her and kiss her and never let go. I wanted to run out the doors and scream into the night. I shouldn't be given a second chance, but _damn_ did I want one.

My chest ached, as did my leg and back, and I wondered why I wasn't dead yet. Why wasn't anybody coming to my aid? Did they think I was dead?

My clothes were wet and sticky and they were making my skin itch.

Maybe, just maybe, if we hadn't been so stupid, this wouldn't have happened. No, it was just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We shouldn't have come in the first place. I wondered if he was blaming himself, how he felt. I wondered if he, too, would make it out of here alive.

There was one thing, amongst a few more, that I knew though, and that was that I was terrified of dying.

I didn't even know if what I was feeling was pain anymore. My whole body was tingling, like I was on a warm beach and the cool breeze was making every one of my hairs stand on end.

I wasn't lying in the middle of a dance floor, dying, anymore, not even close. I was a million miles away. Sitting on a black leather chair large enough for two and as comfortable as a cloud. I was dressed in a crisp white suit, white button down shirt, and a black tie. My feet were kicked up on a black granit coffee table and a cigar was tucked frimly between my left fingers.

The walls were painted as a life-size cityscape of New York, as if you were standing atop the highest building with each north, south, east, and west view painted around me in black and white. The room had no door, no way in, no way outl. Just me, alone once more. In front of me waws a lavish plasma screen TV.

I looked to the side table on my left. On it sat the remote for the TV. Tied around it was a string with a small white card on the end that was embroydered with the words "press play."

Curious, I picked upthe remote and gently pressed the play button. The tv made some noise then came to life. The neon sign of the club came into view and kept panning down until it reached Monica, Rachel, Phobe, and Ross. They sat slumped against the wall with two detectives standing in front of them. I couldn't hear what they were saying. Monica pulled a picture out of her pocket and ran her fingers over it. I couldn't see it though, the camera was alreadying moving away. I frantically searched the remote for a rewind button but they had all been removed. Only the PLAY and STOP buttons remained.

I turned my attention back to the TV just as the camera came to the club wall, going straight through it like it wasn't really there.

The three men still sat at the bar, looking rather frazzled now. They were a little dishelved and one of them had a split lip.

The camera moved across the room. Joey was lying on his back, eyes open, breathing heavily. A few feet away, I was lying in a pool of my own blood. I looked like hell..I looked _dead_. Panic shot through me and I bolted upright in my chair. I didn't _want_ to be dead, I wanted to be alive. Anger coursed through me and I smahsed the remote on the floor. The TV immediately zapped off and I slumped back in the chair, a defeated man.

I looked around the room hopelessly. Two doors had appeared, one on one side of the room, one on the other. The one to my left was labeled "go" and the one to my right was "stay". What did that mean? Stay here in this room, this alternate universe, or stay alive, stay with the people I loved? Go on living or go on to heaven, or wherever it is that we go when we die? I wanted to stay alive and go on living, but which direction was I supposed to go?

Sorrow replaced my anger and confusion at the thought that two simple words could change my entire life...or lack there of. If I chose the wrong one, I would never get to see my friends again, the only family I'd ever truly had. I'd never get to see Monica again. I'd never get her to believe me and I'd die a hated man by the one person that I lived for.

I'd never get to figure out the color of her eyes.

ooooo

_Thanks for the reviews and again, I'm sorry this took so long to get up. I promise I'll at least try and get one up by the end of the week, but now I have marching band (which I was unwillingly dragged into to do honor guard (holding flags and stuff) to deal with so I'll have even less time. And on top of that, I've applied to several places for a job and I've got my bro's grad party to help out with on saturday and a parade to do on the same day and GOD my life is going to be crazy for the next few weeks. I'll try as hard as I can to get updates up! Thanks for the reviews!_

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	8. eight

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Eight

ooooo

Joey slowly sat up and shook his head a little. So much for trying to fight them. He wearily turned his head like a man that had just had a bad day, not a man robbed of his freedom and life.

He sadly stared at Chandler and squinted his eyes as if he was trying to figure something out. This could be blamed on so many different people. The guy for picking a fight, the mexicans for bringing guns into the club, the bouncers for not checking close enough, the mexicans for holding them hostage and deciding to make things violent.

But out of all the people, Joey blamed himself. He shouldn't have come here in the first place, and he certainly shouldn't have brought his best friend with.

Chandler. He looked so lifeless, Joey feared that it was too late to save him. He knew that he was still alive by the shallow rise and fall of his chest, but he didn't know if he'd ever open his eyes again.

He had been thinking his plan in his head over and over again. The other hostages were standing by, waiting for Joey to set it into motion.

He said one last prayer for Chandler and himself before whiping away one lone tear and lifting himself off the ground.

ooooo

Left...or right. Left...or right.

I angrily stood up and paced the room. I didn't know what to do. Maybe I would just stay in here forever and see if anybody came to get me? Did all people have to go through this? Was this the supposed 'crossroads'? I thought a long lost loved one was supposed to come to you here and help you out?

I paused and thought for a second. I couldn't remember any people that I really cared about that had died.

I shook my head, realizing that no amount of thinking was going to bring me an answer or help me figure which door to walk thorugh. I took a deep breath and one last look around my personal view of the city I loved and grabbed on to the door handle of my destiny.

Who ever though destiny would have a door handle?

ooooo

Detective Murray walked back over to them with another man a few steps behind.

"This is Detective Banner, my partner. We just need to ask you a few questions," Detective Murray pulled out a notepad and pen.

"What are the names of the hostages you know about?" Detective Banner asked.

"Chandler Bing and Joey Tribbiani," Rachel answered, nervously wringing her hands together. Murray wrote the names down on his pad.

"How old are they?"

"They're both 29"

"What time did you contact them tonight?"

"I think it was a little after one a.m."

"What did they say?"

"Chandler said that he had been shot and that there were cops outside. I didn't really have a lot of time to talk to him before he cut out."

"Why aren't you guys doing anything? Why aren't you going in there? It's just a few guys," Ross yelled.

"We're trying to do this as peacefully as possible. Our swat team is getting access to the security cameras and we're working hard to get in communication with the suspects," Murray replied, looking up from his pad.

"Thank you for your time, you guys can go have a seat on those benches over there if you'd like," Banner said before walking away.

"We're doing everything we can to get your friends our of there," Murray said, also walking away.

Several shots rang out from the inside of the building and a swarm cops ran to get in place and aim their weapons.

ooooo

Joey crawled over to the bar on his hands and knees. One of the men had put their gun down on the bar several minutes ago and was now just on the other side.

Nathan, one of the other hostages, crawled over to the end of the bar and waited. Mike, another hostage, crawled to the gap in the bar that waitresses used to come in and out of.

Joey lept up and grabbed the gun, quickly aiming it between the three men. Nathan popped up from the end of the bar and tackled one of the mexicans to the ground, his gun was knocked away and slid several feet away from the two men. Mike reached under the bar and grabbed one of the mens legs and pulled them back. The man went crashing to the ground, also dropping his weapon in the process.

Joey shakily kept his aim on the giant and waved him to get out from across the bar. Nathan and Mike continued to wrestle with the other two men on the ground as the swat team stormed into the club through the front doors, guns aimed. "Freeze! Drop your weapon! Hands in the air!" They yelled, getting closer to the the bar.

Joey threw his weapon to the ground and flung his arms in the air. "It's ok! I'm a hostage!"

Nathan and Mike were torn away from their fights and thrown to the ground.

"Down on the ground, now!" An officer yelled at Joey as he slowly laid down on his stomach.

He was cuffed and dragged out of the building unwillingly by two men, Chandler was still in there, he couldn't leave him. "Wait! You have to help my friend!"

Mike and Nathan were brought out behind Joey. Monica, Ross, Rachel, and Phoebe spotted Joey and raced towards him.

"Joey, oh my God, you're ok!" Rachel screamed, throwing her arms around him.

"Rachel, tell them to take these cuffs off me! I need to help Chandler!"

The cops shoved Joey in the back seat of a police car and rolled the window down before slaming the door and running back inside.

The four friends ran toward the building entrance but were stopped by another young cop.

"You can't go in there!" He yelled, blocking the doorway with his body.

"Chandler!" Monica screamed, spotting him lying on the floor surrounded by paramedics.

"Move!" Ross yelled, shoving the cop out of the way and running over to Chandler.

"Oh my God," Monica cried and knelt down by Chandler's head.

"I can't find a pulse," one of the paramedics said, removing his hand from Chandler's neck to begin chest compressions.

The other paramedic covered Chandler's mouth and nose with a mask and started squeezing the the bulb it was connected to.

"Chandler, please don't die. Wake up, baby, wake up," Monica cried softly, brushing back his sweat soaked hair.

The second paramedic put his fingers to Chandler's neck. "I got a pulse, it's weak, but it's there, let's move him."

The two men proceded to lift Chandler on a stretcher and haul him off to an ambulance.

"I'm going with you," Monica said, climbing in the back with them.

"We'll get a taxi," Ross said. "What hospital are you taking him to?"

"Beth Israel," the first paramedic replied before reaching out to grab the doors and pull them shut.

"Come on!" Phoebe yelled, running past several buildings to get to the main street and hail a cab.

ooooo

_Sorry this chapter was kinda short, but I got it up within five days! Go me! I'm gonna be really really busy for the next few days (driving test on monday baybee!) so I don't know how much of the story I"ll be able to get typed up and posted. I'll try my best though!_

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


	9. nine

Dying in Your Arms Tonight - Chapter Nine

ooooo

The four friends waited impatiently in the well decorated waiting room.

"Guys!" Joey yelled, spotting them as he came through the emergency entrance dooors. "Is he okay?"

"We don't know, they haven't told us anything yet, he's still in surgery.," Monica replied as they all got up to greet him with hugs.

"How'd you get here? Didn't they arrest you?" Ross asked.

"They other hostages told them I was a hostage, not one of those damn guys," Joey spat, then looked regretfully at Monica. "I'm so sorry, Mon, I shouldn't have taken him out. He wanted to stay in, I should have just let him," he cried as tears ran down his face and he grabbed onto her arms.

"Joey, it's okay, it's not your fault. You didn't know this was going to happen," Monica soothed, wipping his tears away and wrapping her arms around him as he cried into her shoulder.

A doctor came into the waiting room, dressed in standard baby blue scrubs, and looked around the room.

"Doctor, were you in the opperating room with Chandler Bing?" Ross asked, stepping ahead of the group.

"Yes, I was. Are you related to him?"

Monica stepped away from Joey and approached the doctor, "I'm his girlfriend."

"Does he have any immediate family here?" the doctor asked.

"No, but it would take forever for his parents to get here, let alone to get in contact with them," Ross replied.

"Please, we need to know how he is, we're the closest thing he has to family," Monica pleaded.

The doctor looked at them sympathetically and sighed. "Alright, but you have to contact his family as soon as possible. He had a gun shot would to his lower left shoulder, we were able to get the bullet out just fine. We cleaned and stitched up the penetration wound to his left right thigh. When the paramedics found him, he didn't have a pulse, but they got his heart going again. He lost a lot of blood, which caused his heart rate to drop and we lost him again during surgery. He's stable now though and we expect him to recover well. He might need some physical therapy for his left shoulder though, we're not sure yet."

The group breathed a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed into each other's arms.

"Can we see him?" Monica asked.

"Yes, you can, one at a time for tonight though, we still have nurses checking on him frequently and we don't want the room to get too crowded. He's unconscious, so you won't be able to talk to him, although, he might still hear you, so you can give it a try.

"When will he wake up?"

"It could be a few hours, could be a few days, that's really up to him. He should be moved up to the ICU by now, room 412."

"Thank you, Doctor," Monica said as she jogged past him over to the elevator.

ooooo

"Oh, baby," Monica said softly as she walked into his room and took a seat. She stared at his still form, propped up into a reclined position by the bed, as if he had fallen asleep watching tv. "Can you hear me? Squeze my hand if you can hear me," she said, gently picking up his hand off the bed, careful not to disturb the pulse monitor on his finger. "Nevermind. Look, I'm really sorry about not talking to you for the past few days. I believe you, I know you wouldn't do something like that. I guess I was just mad at you, at me, I don't know. I love you, Chandler, I don't want to lose you, you have to wake up, you're the best thing that's ever come into my life. You're my life too, Chandler, I can't live without you. Open those beautiful baby blues and come back to us," she paused, staring at his peaceful face. "Well, I guess I should go, the others want to see you."

Monica stood and leaned down a little to give him a kiss on his forehead before walking out of the room.

ooooo

_the next afternoon..._

I had definately gone through the right door...or so I was sure.

Being unconscious in this coma-like state was not how I imagined it would be, it wasn't how people described it in books or in movies, it was rather..._human_.

I was in my own body, I couldn't see, but I could picture the room. I had heard everybody when they came in to talk to me, every word, every cry.

I needed to wake up, but I was far too tired. I knew I wasn't awake when I heard everybody because I couldn't move anything, not even a finger.

My time was spent listening to my friends and dreaming. I dreamed of real things, like alternate situations of the past few days.

Joey was in my room now. I was glad that he was ok, physically unharmed. Emotionally, I knew he was spent, he felt responsible for what happened, I heard him say that he was even thinking of leaving if I never woke up.

He had his feet propped up on the end of my bed and was watching a basketball game on the TV in my room.

"Hey, Joe," Rachel said, entering the room. She plopped down in the chair next to him and crossed her legs. "Any change?"

"Nope," Joey replied with a sigh.

Rachel flipped open the latest issue of Cosmo. "Hm, bet you don't want to hear how to do a self pedicure with fruit, do you, Chandler?"

_God no, I really could do without._

Rachel stared at my unconcious body for a few seconds before flipping the magazine shut and tossing it on my nighstand.

"We called your parents adn told them what happened, but they couldn't come, sorry Hun. Your mom said she'd drop by in a few weeks though," she said.

_I figured they wouldn't come anyway._

"Hey, I thought we were just going to tell him that we couldn't get in contact with them?" Joey said, rather alarmed.

"Relax, it's not like he can hear us anyway."

"You don't know that. Watch what you say," Joey warned.

"Fine, _Dad_," Rachel huffed and stood up. "I'm gonna go find something to eat, want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm not really hungry."

"Wow, Joey Tribbiani, not hungry. This is one for the books!" Rachel laughed and walked off down the hallway.

I head Joey shut the TV off, scoot his chair closer to me, and rest his arms on the edge of my bed.

"You in there?" he asked. "You gotta wake up sometime, you know. I miss you, you're laying right here, and I miss you," he paused and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Chandler. I shouldn't have taken you to the club, you didn't want to go, I knew that, but ignored it. Please wake up, man."

I wasn't ready to wake up yet, physically I was getting close, but emotionally I was far from. Joey needed to be convinced by everybody else that this was not his fault, I couldn't do it, I wasn't supposed to.

I had had enough listening for now.

ooooo

_Later that night..._

Phoebe casually strolled into the room, glanced at Rachel sleeping in the chair next to the door, and walked across the room to sit next to my bed.

"Hey you, first off, I'd like to say that you have got a _killer_ view here. Check it out, this whole wall is a window, you can see right down the street! It looks so pretty, all those cars, people, buldings, lights, you don't know what you're missing," she said, motioning to the window behind her.

"And second, I know that you can hear me, and I know that you're not ready to wake up yet, but listen, Joey's leaving. He doesn't want to be here, not after what happened, he can't stand to see you like this. He thinks it's all his fault. You reall need to wake up, Chandler. Monica loves you, she really does, and you're scaring the crap out of her. We finally got her to go home this afternoon and get some sleep. I miss you, Chandler," Phoebe said, resting her hands on the edge of my bed.

It was a strange new feeling, like my whole body was being recharged. I could move again. I slid my hand towards Phoebe's at the first change I got and was able to get my pinky finger up on her hand. She glanced down at our hands then up at my face.

I slowly cracked my eyes open and stared at her for a few seconds, my vision was blurry, mostly from not using my eyes since last night. "Water," I whispered, my throat was so dry.

Phoebe grabbed the cup off my nightstand and moved to hand it to me, but after seeing that I was unable to life my injured arm, she lifted the cup to my mouth. I took a sip of water and forcefully swallowed it.

"Nice to see you again," Phobe smiled. I weakly smiled back.

"Is Joey really leaving?" I asked quietly.

"No, I just said it because I knew it would get you to wake up."

Wow, I really was getting tired now. I turned my head toward the window, it truly was a great view.

"I'll go get the doctor, visiting hours are over in about five minutes, so we'll all come by tomorrow morning. G'night," she stood up, bent down to give me a kiss on the forehead, roused Rachel out of her deep sleep, and half carried her out of the room.

ooooo

to be continued...

ooooo

_Wow, it's been a really long time since I last updated. I've been so incredibly busy though, and everytime I get on the computer to type some of this story up, I run out of time. I have nothing left to type up though, I'm on my own now, I have to finish the story by myself. I think the next chapter should be the last one, so please review and let me know what you think! Thank you SO MUCH for all of the reviews, I love you guys! Oh, by the way, I didn't have time to check this chapter for any mistakes, so sorry if there are any._

_Thanks for reading, please review!_


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